Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1887-04-08
RECONCILED.
BY Z. H. L.

My darling sister-surely I may call you
SO. for L love you as dearly as though we
were both of the same mother-why are
you so averse TO Horace Walpole? He
loves you tenderly and truly, and his is not
a nature TO love lightly; it is the love of his
life. His eyes hold for you a depth of
feeling chat would prove your glory. if you
would only look upon him with half the
favor you bestow OF Walter Grant. Glare,
tempt Fate to be unkind to you?"
II have listened to you very patiently,
Mary, because, 1 believe that you love me
and wish me happiness, but your words
are worse than thrown away. I can never
return the affection Horace Walpole feels
for me, II, indeed, he feels any,, because I
do not even like him."
you have known Mr.. Walpole a little
less dian Six months, Glare, aud from the
first you have eyinced a decided aversion to
him. I cannot understand in what you
feel repelled, for he is gentlemanly,
courteous, and I can see beneath that
calm exterior, a world of tenderness for
tAS NO"dA NC I lAuhC LIS WILL
Hush. May! shall never marry, and
least Of all men. Horace Walpole. If you
love me you will never speak of this again."
AS Clareleft her, Mary watched the tall,
lissome figure, the wealth of auburn hair,
hanging in braids far below her waist, and
acknowledged to herself that q fairer
picture had never crossed her vision.
"She extracts oil alike, women as we'll as
men, get to me she is inexplicable," she
murMured. aFrom the first moment of her
introduction to MI. Walpole she has be-
haved in q manner so strange as to lead me
to think they have met before. I wonder
if it is possible that she met him in Rich
tangled web I would weave, if I allowed my
imagination full scope" she said laugh
ingiy, as she entered the house.
It is just six months since Clare SHEER
wood left her home in New York 10 visit
her schoolmate and dearest friend, Mary
Langston. Before leaving school they had
registered girlish vows to visit each other
once every year, and to make a confdant of
each other in all their love affairs.
They had been called "Queenie" and
@Gypsy'' by the rest of their schoolmates.
Clare, because of her regal and almost
naughty bearing, and Mary, because of a
dark, splendid beauty, that eparkled and
glewed only the more when in contrast
with Gare's auburn hair and clear pink
and white beauty.
The rhapsody and chatter of their first
meeting was hardly over, ere Mary fancied
she detected a change in her friend, and Us
time wore on this fancy grew into a GER
taintY.
Glare does not seem happy; she does not
enter into pleasure with her old-time vi
vacity. What can be the cause?" thought
Mary. after o day Of more than usual
languer and indifference in her friend.
"Can it be that the canker, sorrow, has
entered her heart, and will destroy a life
SO young and fair! No, it must not
bel I cannot watch her grow
thin and pale, and reach out no
hand to help her. I will question
Mr.. Walpole. That haunted look in Glare S
eyes When she first met him mustmean
something. And Mr.. Walpole-if Glare
would but look at him once, the hopeless
prayer in his eyes would haunt her for
ever: But no, she avoids him as though he
embodied all the p%estilences. If she wonld
only oonfide in me, but she will not, and 1
cannot force her.confidence."
It is half past seven, and Glare and
Mary ere in the parlor awaiting the arrival
OF Walter Grant md Mr.. Walpole. Clare
is sitting lazily before the fire, one tiny
foot thrust petulantly forward, as though
she had found it in her way, and a look of
such sadness in de depths of her brown
eyes that Mary, who had been sitting OPP
pesite, stole noiselessly from the room
with a settled conviction expressed in every
motion. .
A feW moments later the curtains were
held aside and Horace Walpole entered, q
man OF compact form and fine Saxon fea-
turcs. He hesitated slightly when he saw
Glare, but tho next instant he was by her
side.
sCaaie, my darling, forgive me! Would
YOU wreck both our lives for a fault of my
youth? This life is torture to me! Glare,
l will not give you up, you are mine, and
mine alone!s
Pardon me, MIR. Walpole, I Gun listen
to you no longer" said Glare, hardly
aroused from the stupor into which his
sudden presence had thrown her. "You
promised, that if I would remain here, we
would meet as strangers, and to save Mary
disappointment and pain. I consented.
Yo1. have broken your promise, not an